Right Where We Belong
by Avdal
Summary: For all the twists and turns, ups and downs that Chloe and Lucifer have had together, there's only one irrefutable conclusion that she can come to about what they really are to each other.


In the very beginning, God created Man.

Before that, he created Lucifer.

Or so the man in question would tell you, whether you asked him to or not. But, whatever, that's okay. Chloe's alright with that side of him. The side that needs to be the showman: always at the center of the room and always at center of attention.

 _Her_ attention, especially. But that's another issue in and of itself. One that she's not quite ready or capable of understanding at this particular moment.

In the beginning, in _their_ beginning, Chloe found him absolutely ridiculous.

La La Land was full of types that were almost just like him, though even then he stood out as incomparable. He was a man so full of himself that it was charming in an odd sort of way. Was so unparalleled and unequal in all his swaggering boasts that she lost track of the number of times she'd think to herself ' _he can't possibly be real, right?_ '

Except, over enough time, they'd reached their equilibrium. Right, indeed. Take the whole Son of God business out of the equation for a minute and she could start to see the real man behind the ridiculous pretenses.

He was a good guy. Deep down and he'd be hell-bound to admit to it. But, yes, she was sure that Lucifer Morningstar was fundamentally a good person.

Once, on one of her occasional and deeply regrettable moments of blotto drunkenness, Chloe had even told him that. Slurred that he wasn't really bad after all. Not even a little bit.

And for that brief moment in time, the unprecedented _miracle_ that it was, Lucifer had finally finally _finally_ shut up.

That had been the fundamental turning point in their whole relationship. Which was a pity because Chloe was barely even conscious at the time and had only remembered saying it at all when he had reminded her the next morning. Slipped in a causal ' _well, well Detective... you really shouldn't have'_ along with the black coffee and aspirin he'd so gentlemanly offered her for breakfast.

That was also the point when Chloe had stopped trying to define their relationship.

Lucifer is her partner. He is also her friend. That was their beginning and middle. Everything that's next is open-ended.

 _'Dinner. My place. 1_ _1_ _PM.'_

Do you see the difference now? Before they'd reached that new plateau, getting a presumptuous text message like that from her Devil himself would have borderline infuriated Chloe. The not asking if she wanted to go at all. To spend time with him outside the comfortable security of their professional partnership. Not even whether a (semi) single mother would be willing to have dinner at such a Godawful hour of night.

No. Now she could easily tell him _no_ and he'd accept that. Perhaps he might throw in a _'you wound me, Detective'_ quip that he wouldn't mean and she would her roll her eyes but not mean that, either.

Sometimes she would go, anyhow. Tonight was one of those times.

It had been too quiet and being alone was hard. After all the near-chaos that had rolled into her life and swept away little pieces with the tide when it had retreated, being alone wasn't necessarily the welcome respite it once had seemed like.

Chloe still found it hard to reach out to Lucifer for company, though. She was more than pretty sure he'd be willing to drop whatever or whomever he was doing at her beck and call, but _his_ call had taken the weight of implication off her shoulders.

 _Come on over and have_ _a quiet drink with the Devil._ It used to be that _no_ would be her automatic answer. A reflexive action before she'd even given it a real thought. Now her only concern was whether traffic would be a drag tonight or not.

Maze was at 'work', Trixie was with Dan. Sometimes in the past, when she was in a funk, she had reached out to Dr. Linda for emotional support but... Chloe just kind of assumed that the high-strung therapist's typical evening consisted of Valium and top-shelf vodka. Perhaps that sort of entertainment had its own time and place, as reluctant as she was to admit it, but now when she was feeling a little on the fragile side certainly wasn't it.

 _'Should I bring anything?'_ she replies.

Texting him back after a solid ten minutes of self-reflection on all of the reasons why his offer sounded like _exactly_ what she needed at that moment.

 _'Just your smiling face, Detective.'_

Smile she does. Because he's Lucifer and he always seems to know the right thing to say, even if he rarely actually says it. Then her phone chirps again.

 _'And the clothes on your back, too. But only if you insist ;)'_

A winky face? _Really,_ Lucifer?

And then Chloe spends an embarrassing amount of time picking an appropriately sarcastic-looking emoji to send in reply.

* * *

Dinner had the sort of peaceful quietness and camaraderie that had come to define this next level of whatever this was between them.

Simply existing in the same close space. Talking about this and that. Or not talking at all. Drinking until her wine glass is empty and pretending to fight him when he keeps filling it right back up to the top.

It was... nice.

She'd told him that, too. Told him that being here with him tonight was _nice_. And then tiniest little thing flickered across his face. An expression so faint and fleeting that she wouldn't have picked up on at all before, but now she knows that it really means something.

He doesn't try to pretend otherwise. Doesn't make some flirty comment or boast about how tonight could be so much better than just _nice_.

Instead he simply raises his glass to hers with a good-natured and heartfelt ' _Well cheers then, Detective_ '.

They'd both fallen quiet after that. A pleasantly warm and fuzzy silence between them that matched the edges of her alcohol-blurring mind.

Chloe once would have felt uncomfortable with this. With how they'd both moved closer together and were sitting side by side now. Sharing their sentiments for each other's company without saying a word.

She couldn't have done this with Dan. Not had this quiet intensity without it leading to something else. Usually into a fight, in all honesty. Which was one of the many things that had weighed her down so much before coming here.

Lucifer would have probably defended her against Dan, which would have been highly unwanted and unhelpful. There were so many times that they both acted so petty towards each other, especially when it regarded her. At least, though, their constant preening rivalry had worn its course. His and Dan's mostly civil relationship had its ebbs and flows, just like her own did with both of those men.

Almost as if Lucifer could hear her thoughts, he leans forward. Brings their faces closer like he's going to kiss her and she wonders if, just for the once, maybe she should let him.

Except he was only reaching past her for her once-again empty glass. Doing it in such an invasively suggestive and unnecessary way that's just so perfectly _him._

And Chloe blushes and he notices and comments on it and they both laugh.

Back to their normal. No desire to change things and no reason to.

This time, when Lucifer stops pouring the wine and her glass is only half full, it's Chloe's turn to wave him on.

* * *

By her fifth glass she has to tell him that she's spending the night. Too inebriated and content to want to get up off his couch and stumble into a taxi.

And, of course, _there_ comes the flirty comment. The offer to share his bed even though they both know that he'll tuck her in there safely and alone when she finally passes out in the wee hours of the morning. Wake her up with his Hangover Special when it's time to go to work and maybe they'll drive in together. Or, more likely separately since one of them will be feeling a little pensive about the night before and want some space.

Then they would sashay right back into whatever drifting path their relationship was now taking. Ebbs and flows until Lucifer calls her again and wants another quiet night of companionship.

He wore his ego like a security blanket. She knew that even from the very beginning, the only difference now is that she doesn't mind.

For all of his bravado, boasting, and Brittneys, Lucifer was deep-down a very insecure man. _That_ was where she was convinced all the Biblical nonsense came from. A place in him that demanded acceptance but would pull away before he ever revealed too much of himself.

Chloe never doubted that he had some sort of deep, dark secret, but... come on, it couldn't really be all that bad, right?

She told him that, too. Once again. As he carried her off to her bed for the night when her legs wouldn't let her have the dignity of walking herself there.

Except she doesn't remember what he said this time. Just remembers him gripping her tighter before settling her down between his sheets.

It doesn't matter though.

In Lucifer's mind he was the Son of God. Pfft... oh _whatever_ , Lucifer. To Chloe, he is her partner and her friend.

No matter what egotistical metaphor he's spouting, she's always going to have his back. And he's always going to have hers. Everything else is just ambient noise. Because he is _her_ Lucifer, very much Goddamnit, and right now that's all she needs.

* * *

Author's Note:

Chloe and Lucifer are one of those couples that I can't decide if I want to get together or not. Like with Abbie and Ichabod on Sleepy Hollow, they just have such a great and special relationship exactly the way it is. But... but we'll see. I have faith in the writers. And no, Lucifer, faith doesn't have to be a bad thing.


End file.
